


Sketchbooks

by cadmium55, castomydean



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Drawing, F/M, Fluff, Gay, M/M, Sadness, Smutty at times, dear god i hate tagging things, life story, so much gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-07-18 09:10:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7308802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadmium55/pseuds/cadmium55, https://archiveofourown.org/users/castomydean/pseuds/castomydean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sketchbooks were full of him.</p><p>    Full of sketches of his face, his hair, his body. Him smiling, him frowning; him laughing with his head thrown back. Him doing the simplest things; sitting in a coffee shop, him working. Him stretching in the morning, shirt riding up and back muscles rippling. Detailed drawings of his eyes, his neck, his jawline. And he was the only thing in the sketchbook. There was nothing drawn onto the pages that wasn't Alexander Hamilton.</p><p>    By God, John Laurens was pining.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Boy, You Got Me Helpless

 

 

 

    The sketchbooks were full of him.

    Full of sketches of his face, his hair, his body. Him smiling, him frowning; him laughing with his head thrown back. Him doing the simplest things; sitting in a coffee shop, him working. Him stretching in the morning, shirt riding up and back muscles rippling. Detailed drawings of his eyes, his neck, his jawline. And he was the only thing in the sketchbook. There was nothing drawn onto the pages that wasn't Alexander Hamilton.

    By God, John Laurens was pining.

    He and Alexander had been roommates for about a year now. Fresh out of college, each of them had been short on money and had needed someone to help with rent. As they planned to work together, this arrangement had seemed ideal. That is, until it came to controlling John's crush on Alex. It was much harder to suppress romantic feelings for someone when your spent every waking moment with them. So John had turned to art. He'd always been talented at drawing, but had never really had the courage to pursue it as a career. Nevertheless, he drew whenever he could. And all he ever thought to draw was Alex. Because, why not? Alex was beautiful, and he was always there. John had committed every detail of him to memory. He wondered what Alex would think if he looked in the sketchbook.  That John was a creepy stalker, probably.

   John was currently sitting opposite Alex at the breakfast bar in their shared apartment. Neither of them had dressed yet, meaning they were both shirtless and in pyjama bottoms. Alex was yawning into his cereal, and John was drawing him doing just that. Alex gestured to the sketchbook with his spoon. "What are you even doing in that thing, anyway? Writing?"  
"Yes. I'm writing a very detailed explanation on how Alexander Hamilton eats cereal."  
"What an interesting topic of choice. What have you got so far?" Alex said, grinning.  
John read out dramatically "He gestures to the book with the spoon, flicking milk in the face of his incredibly handsome flatmate..."  
Alex laughed. "Sorry about that," he said.  
John continued drawing as he said "He turns to face the bowl of Cookie Crisp, and ever so gently, _plunges_ the spoon into the milk..."  
"Well this is getting erotic," Alex commented. John burst out laughing and shut the sketchbook, now finished with his drawing. Alex pretended to look disappointed. "Is that all?" He asked. "I was enjoying that."  
"Were you really? Do you have a cereal kink or something?" John said in mock surprise as Alex choked on the last of his breakfast. "Hey, I'm not judging you. I'll even write more cereal erotica for you to read in your spare time. Hey, do you reckon I could make a career out of it?"  
"Oh yeah, people will be queueing around the corners of bookshops to buy John Laurens' cereal erotica."  
"Just you wait, Hamilton" John laughed, walking out of the kitchen and towards his bedroom to get dressed.

-

    John did up the last button of his short-sleeved shirt. He had work in about an hour. He and Alex both worked the lunchtime shift in their local coffee shop. Alex had done law at college, and was currently working internships. Of course, this didn't bring any money in, so he managed to fit the coffee shop in between whatever else he was doing - John wasn't really sure what the internships entailed. John had studied English in the hope that he'd become a journalist. John was always someone who stood up for what he believed in, and publishing his opinion for the world to see seemed to be the best way to make a difference. However, he'd been turned down at every job interview he'd been to. Something about him being too young with too-strong opinions that would change as he got older. John didn't think so.

    He picked the sketchbook up off his bed and looked at his most recent drawing. It showed Alex, spoon in hand, yawning over a bowl of Cookie Crisp. He had captured the moment perfectly; Alex looked beautiful. Who the hell looks beautiful while _yawning_? John was fairly sure Alex wasn't human. He sighed, shut the book and hid it where he always did - under his mattress. He felt like that was the one place Alex wouldn't think to look for anything and accidentally come across it. _Then_ John would be in for it.

    He was interrupted by a knock on his bedroom door. "Alex?" he asked.  
"No, it's a burglar who has the keys to the house and the decency to knock on the door." Alex's sarcastic reply sounded through John's bedroom door.  
John rolled his eyes. "Come in!" he told his roommate.  
Alex opened the door. He wasn't dressed, and he looked like hell. "What's up?" John asked, worried.  
"I don't know, man. I suddenly feel really awful, like I've got a stomach bug or something."  
"I'm guessing that means you want to ditch me at work?"  
"Look, I'm sorry..."  
"Hey, it's okay. Stay here for the day. Just don't vomit on any of my stuff."  
Alex smiled weakly. "Did I ever tell you I love you?"  
John pretended not to wish Alex actually did love him. Instead, he just smiled back at his roommate and said "Yeah, whatever. Get well soon, and all that."

    John helped Alex drag the spare duvet on to the sofa. After Alex was comfortable, John realised he needed to go to work. "Right, someone's got to earn the money in this household-"  
"Oh, shut up," Alex interrupted. "It's one day off!"  
John grinned. "Sure, Alex. See you at 4."  
"See you," Alex called after his roommate.

John shut the door on his way out.

 -

    It had been an hour and a half, and Alex was missing his roommate. Moving in with John had been one of his better decisions. He was always there if Alex needed anything, and they could make each other laugh until they cried. It was strange, Alex now really _wanted_ to be at work. He honestly liked working with John at the coffee shop; they had a whole system for how everything was done, and the stress of a lot of customers wasn't nearly as bad when you had your best friend there with you.

    Alex had gotten up off the sofa and was looking in their cupboards for some chocolate. They didn't have any - what kind of nightmare was this? He was just about to text John to buy some on his way home, when he thought where else he could look. John hoarded chocolate (the man had a really sweet tooth), so there might be some in his bedroom. Alex pushed John's bedroom door open, pushing away the slight feeling of guilt that came with snooping around his roommate's bedroom. He wondered where John would hide it from him. Somewhere he didn't think Alex would look. Nothing in the drawers, nothing under the pillows, nothing in the pillowcases - Alex really wanted chocolate. That was when the little bit of genius hit him: where did everyone hide things they wanted no one else to see? _Under the mattress!_

    Lifting a mattress by yourself is pretty hard work - Alex was proud of himself. However, that lasted around a second when he saw no chocolate under the mattress. The only thing under there was John's sketchbook. Confusion struck Alex - what could be in the sketchbook that was so awful that John felt he needed to hide it from Alex?

    Taking a breath, Alex opened the cover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayo so this is a new Lams fic that I'm working on with my friend Grace (cadmium55). Hope you enjoy it, please tell us what you think in the comments. Thanks - Anna


	2. I'm Trying Not To Cry 'Cause There's Nothing That Your Mind Can't Do

Alex lifted the sketchbook off the bed frame, and placed it on the (now reassembled) bed. Sitting down next to it, he hesitantly opened the cover. He felt his heart jump in his chest as he saw what the first drawing was of. Him. An oddly realistic sketch of him, hunched over his desk, glasses on, hair falling in his face, a pen in his hand, a mug of coffee by his elbow. With a start, he realised that this must have been how John first saw him - sleep deprived and dishevelled, working on another essay written on paper (he couldn't afford a computer yet).

He had moved into their shared apartment (if you could call it that) a few days before John did, and immediately started to work on a group project with a couple of other students. He remembered days of writing, only getting up to refill his coffee, go to the toilet, or get some more snacks. (He had basically been living off cereal at that point). John had arrived in the middle of him writing one of the more challenging essays, and he hadn't slept in nearly two days when John forced him to take a break. So that must have been when he had drawn this. And Alex had to admit that he almost looked cute. John had made sleep deprived look like a fashion statement. He looked less like death incarnate, and more like a sleepy puppy.

Around the drawing were other sketches, a hand, the back of a head, hair pulled up into a ponytail (His, Alex realised), eyes, a mouth, a pair of disembodied feet. Wanting to see more, Alex quickly turned the page - to reveal more drawings of him. In the middle of the page was him, shirtless, every muscle, every line composed in a way that made him look undeniably sexy.

Flipping through the sketchbook, devouring the images that appeared before him, he saw hundreds of pictures of him. Nothing but him, his arms, his legs, his eyes, his mouth, his face, his body... He felt a blush creep up his neck as he saw a picture of him, presumably just out the shower, a towel draped loosely around his waist, most of his legs and ass uncovered. Does John... Like me? he found himself thinking. The most recent drawing was a picture of him eating cereal, spoon halfway to his mouth, which was wide open. With a start he realised that must have been what John had been doing that morning over breakfast - drawing him. And it was possibly the most sexy goddamn drawing of someone eating cereal ever. He didn't know how it was possible to make eating cereal look sexy, but it here he was.

Lost in the sketchbook, Alex didn't notice the quiet click of the door closing, or the footsteps that followed. He did, however, notice when a voice called out "Alex?". He did, however, notice the creak of the door when John opened it. And he definitely noticed the gasp of shock when John saw him sitting on the bed, sketchbook open. John stepped forward and tore the sketchbook out of his hand.

"W-what are you doing? ," John said, voice shaking, barely more than a whisper, "You... You weren't meant to see that." He had tears in his eyes. There was a lump of guilt in Alex's throat.  
"Why did you draw me like that?" John seemed taken aback by the question.  
"What?"  
"You made me look..." He paused, searching for the right word, "Nice." He said finally. John softened slightly.  
"You do look nice," he said quietly. Alex felt his face warm at the compliment. An awkward silence fell between them. John looked faintly distressed.  
Alex cleared his throat. "So-" He paused, unsure what to say.  
“You... Like me?” He internally cringed at the way his voice went up several octaves at the end. A small, sad smile played on John’s face.  
“Is it that obvious?” He said dryly, “assuming you actually saw what was in the sketchbook?” Alex coughed awkwardly.  
“Uh- Yes. I did. See it, I mean.”  
“And you’re okay with that? I understand if you want me to move out, or- or- not speak to you anymore or something, and I wont be mad- mmf” John was cut off by Alex crashing their lips together. The kiss was a bit awkward and hasty, but Alex didn’t care. He pulled away.  
“I like you too, dummy. ” A strange mix of astonishment and relief flashed across John’s face, and he pulled Alex in for another kiss. This one was less awkward; their noses didn’t bash together quite as much, and it wasn’t quite as messy. Alex felt John smile against his mouth, and pulled away slightly, just enough for John to say:  
“You have no idea how long I have wanted to do this.” He was grinning like an idiot.  
“How long?” Alex asked.  
“Forever.” John replied, before crashing his lips against Alex’s once more. At some point, Alex pulled John down onto the bed, where they resumed kissing until their lips were sore. That night they fell asleep next to each other, curled up together on John's bed, the happiest either of them had ever been.  
-  
The next morning, John awoke, panicked when he saw his roommate curled up into his side, and promptly fell out of bed, flailing as he did so. The loud thump of him hitting the floor woke the aforementioned roommate, who was considerably less panicked, and after he saw that John was alright, started laughing uncontrollably. Alexander's laugh was infectious, as it turned out, and set off John laughing as well. Alex crawled out of bed and sat down next to John on the floor. A wicked grin spread across John's face.

"John, why are you-" John cut Alex off by lifting his shirt up, and tickling him. This caused Alex to shriek loudly, but John was relentless with his attack. Alex managed to grab a pillow from the bed and hit John in the face with it as an attempt to ward him off, but to no avail.  
"Oh, you're on!" John said, grabbing the other pillow, and then hit Alex in the back as he scrambled away. The pillow fight went on for a good half hour before they collapsed, exhausted, on the sofa.  
"Breakfast?" John asked, still out of breath.  
"Please," came the reply.  
And so John set about cooking breakfast for the both of them, thinking over the previous day's events. The smell of bacon attracted Alex, who was tasked with making coffee. They worked in silence, neither of them wanting to breach the subject of feelings quite this early in the morning. Soon there were two plates of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast on the table, and John and Alex sat down to eat. After a while of eating in silence, Alex spoke up.  
"So about yesterday," he said, making John's stomach do a somersault, "Is that a... Thing? Is that going to happen again?"  
"Do you want it to?"  
"Yes! I mean- if you're okay with that." John responded by leaning over the table and kissing him full on the mouth.  
"Yes, I'm okay with that," John said, smiling.  
"So... Doyouwanttogoonadatewithme?" Alex said, blushing at the way he stumbled over the question.  
"I would love to," John replied, barely containing his excitement at the idea, "When?"  
"I was thinking maybe later today? We could go for dinner at that fancy restaurant- you know, the Italian that does the pasta Laf's always raving on about. It's Friday, so we get out of work at four, so maybe I could book a table for half seven? Sorry, I'm rambling."  
John, who had been watching Alex rambling, said, "No, no it's fine. That sounds amazing. If you're not too ill, of course."  
"What? Oh- no, I'm feeling fine. Great, even." Suddenly, he noticed the time; 10:30. "Oh shit- John, look at the time, we need to go in like, ten minutes."  
And so the next ten minutes were filled with rushing around frantically, both of them in a mad scramble to find their barista uniforms, shoes, underwear, various other items of clothing they'd seemingly misplaced. Eventually, they were sorted, and set off on the ten minute walk to the coffee shop that they took every morning.  
-  
Alex, it seemed, had somehow found time to book the table at the restaurant, and so at half seven, they arrived at the door in the nicest suits that they owned. Alex, much to John's dismay/delight, was wearing his glasses, which caused John to be awkwardly turned on for the entirety of the meal. A waiter appeared at the door and escorted them to their table; a small, secluded affair in the corner next to the window that was overlooking the garden behind the restaurant. He lit the candle in the middle of their table, placed their menus in front of them, winked, and walked off.

The date went relatively smoothly. Apart from the homophobic couple on the table across from them, who kept on shooting them dirty looks, John getting and awkward boner halfway through the meal (to be fair, it was because of Alex, who had taken his shoe off and, hidden by the table cloth, started running his foot up and down John's leg), and Alex dropping tagliatelle down his front, everything was perfect. They split the bill, as neither of them had enough money to pay by themselves.

Over desert, the subject of relationships was brought up.  
"Alex?" John said, in between mouthfuls of chocolate brownie.  
"Yes?" Came the reply.  
"Are we a... Thing now?" Alex looked at him quizzically.  
"What do you mean?"  
"I mean like, are we dating now? Romantic interests? Boyfriends?" They both froze.  
"Boyfriends?" Alex said tentatively.  
"Only if you want to be."  
"Are you asking me to be your boyfriend, John Laurens?" Alex was smirking as he asked the question.  
"I suppose I am, Alexander Hamilton." John replied.  
"Well then, the answer is yes, I do want to be your boyfriend. Also you have brownie on your nose." They locked eyes for a second, then simultaneously burst out laughing.  
"We're going to have to tell Laf and Herc at some point, you know," Alex said, then froze. "What if Jefferson finds out? He'll give us hell."  
"Not without being a huge hypocrite." John replied.  
"What to you mean?"  
"I'm fairly sure he's sleeping with Madison." There was a pause before they both started laughing uncontrollably once more.

When they got home they collapsed on John's bed, still fully dressed, and almost immediately fell asleep.  
All was good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YO  
> I'm Grace, aka Cadmium55. I hope you like the chapter- comments are more than welcome, even constructive criticism. Thanks for reading!


	3. I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has the realization of a lifetime, all because of a drunken Frenchman and his boyfriend.

**Warning: There is smut in this chapter. If you don't want to read it, skip over the paragraph beginning "Now they were..." and ending "...door burst open."**

Two years passed, and they were happy. John had drawn their first date. He'd drawn how hot Alex looked in the suit he had worn; drawn Alex with tagliatelle down his front, grinning despite his ruined shirt; drawn Alex's hand clasped in his across the table. He'd copied the photographs Alex insisted on taking: John himself with brownie on his nose, a selfie of them kissing at the end of the night. John had drawn the first date, and he had drawn every date since. He drew him and Alex cuddling while watching a movie, Alex's head on his chest and their legs entangled. He drew Alex asleep in the car on their first road trip. They'd had their fights - who didn't? But they were only ever about little things, and were always solvable with a night in bed together, kissing in between whispered "sorry"s and "I love you"s. It had been two years, and neither Alex nor John had ever been happier.

Things were getting pretty heated on the night John had his realisation. It was almost midnight and Alex had been working all day. John was getting very bored and very horny. He'd done everything he could think to do without actually touching Alex, until he'd finally given up and sat in his boyfriend's lap. "John, I really need to-" Alex never got to say what he needed to do, because he was quickly silenced by John's mouth on his.

Now they were lying in bed, John on top of Alex, both in their underwear and making out. John moved his lips to Alex's neck, sucking and biting slightly. Alex sighed happily, tangling his fingers in John's hair. "John, I love you, but I have a lot of work-oh," he moaned unexpectedly - John has started to grind their crotches together.  
John stopped kissing Alex briefly to look into his boyfriend's eyes and say "Rule number one - you are not allowed to talk about your boring law shit when we're making out. Got it?"  
"Ooh, are we doing rules now? Hot."  
"Yes. Rule number two is that if you must spend all day working, you have to have sex with me at the end of the night."  
"I think I can manage that." Alex grinned as John resumed what he'd been doing, this time moving back up to kiss Alex's lips. Meanwhile Alex moved one hand out of John's hair and into his boxers. John groaned into his boyfriend's mouth as he got him off, pushing into Alex's hand. Alex smirked, removing John's boxers. John wasn't having that - he quickly removed Alex's underwear, catching his boyfriend off guard. They were getting each other off now, trying to keep kissing even though their moans made it very hard to do so. "Stop," John whispered against Alex's lips. He climbed off of his boyfriend and sat up in bed, motioning for Alex to sit in his lap. They managed to shift into a position where John could start pushing into Alex, but as he was about to do just that, they heard their apartment door burst open.

Alex quickly climbed out of John's lap, pulling on a dressing gown and yelling "Who's there?"  
John groaned. He was going to kill whichever cockblock had broken into his apartment. He pulled on his boxers and walked quickly out of the bedroom. He was surprised and slightly relieved when he saw who it was had broken into their apartment - Lafayette, who was clearly drunk. Laf's eyes moved from Alex to John a couple of times before saying "John, Alexander, mes amis, I have some wonderful news-" they were cut off by Hercules appearing in the doorway, breathless but grinning. He looked sober, thank god. "What's this all about?" John asked him, sounding more irritable than he had originally intended. Lafayette smiled at the sight of their boyfriend. "Hercules, mon amour..." they wrapped their arms around Herc's neck, trying to kiss him. "Hey, stop it, we've got something to tell them, remember?" Hercules smiled down at his drunk partner.  
"Mulligan, I was just about to get laid, so if you don't tell me what the reason for you breaking into my apartment, I may kill you," John said, sounding both curious and pissed off.  
"Control your hormones, Laurens," Hercules shot back, still fighting Laf off. "Anyway," he said, his face breaking into a huge grin, "the news is, Laf and I are engaged."  
Alex looked both happy and shocked. "Oh my god - congratulations, you guys!"  
John laughed. "That's amazing, congrats!"  
They spent a while laughing as Hercules explained the proposal, how he had almost lost the ring and how he didn't think he would have enough time to even ask Lafayette in the first place. The ring Hercules had chosen was beautiful, and Lafayette clearly adored it.  
"Right, this has been lovely, but it's half past one in the morning and I have to get this one home," he gestured to Lafayette, who was hanging onto their fiancé's arm, smiling like a lovesick idiot.  
"Goodnight, guys," Alex said, smiling.  
"Congrats again!" John added.  
Hercules and Lafayette left the apartment arm in arm.

Five minutes later, Alex and John were back in bed. Alex was exhausted: he had been working all day and being kept up until the early hours of the morning wasn't going to be good for him. John, however, lay awake. He was thinking about Herc and Laf: they were making such a huge commitment to each other. But John could see why. Just from the way they had been acting, John could tell how in love the couple were. He wondered if he and Alex would ever be ready for that kind of a commitment. Surely they were already? They already lived together, worked together, slept together every night. And John loved Alex. He loved him more than he'd loved any of his past boyfriends. He turned over, looking at Alex as he slept. He was beautiful; so, so beautiful. John got out the sketchbook, which he now kept in the bedside drawer as he no longer had to hide it from Alex. Taking a pencil out of the same drawer, he spent a few minutes doing a rough drawing of Alex. As he put the sketchbook away, he sighed at his new realisation. He wanted to marry Alexander Hamilton.

-

The next day, as Alex worked on yet another court case he'd been assigned, John set to work drawing. He too had finally got a job; for about a year now he'd been writing for a magazine aimed to teach teenagers about politics and what else was going on in the world. He had his own column where he talked about human rights issues. But that never took him long to write, and the magazine came out monthly, so he still had a lot of time to draw whatever he fancied. Most of the time, this was Alex. But now he was drawing rings.

He knew he wanted to design Alex's engagement ring. It made it more special, somehow. More personal. But he had so many ideas, each one the complete opposite of the one before. He looked up the meanings of several different gemstones: a ruby, perhaps, for love and passion? An emerald, to show happiness in one's life? Or should he just go with a traditional diamond? Did he even have the money for an engagement ring? John was confused as hell. He went on the websites of several different jewellery makers and practically fainted at the prices. He made it his mission to save as much as he could for a ring.

John spent three months choosing the final design, and when he did he drew it over and over. One night, as they were lying in bed together, Alex couldn't sleep. He was extremely stressed about work and it was keeping him up. He'd tried everything, but he could not get to sleep. He would generally read something to help him sleep, but there wasn't anything easy by his bedside, and he needed something simple to read. The sketchbook! he thought suddenly. Alex loved looking through John's drawings, and he hadn't in a while. He walked around to the other bedside drawer and took out the book. He smiled as he saw some of the recent drawings - there was one of him in a dressing gown, looking tired and happy, on the night Herc and Laf had broken into the apartment. Another one of him, sleeping this time. Then he turned the page and saw...rings? Why would John be drawing rings? It was petty, but Alex was confused and slightly offended that John hadn't kept the sketchbook solely about their relationship. He looked at the several different rings: they were beautiful, sure, but why had John drawn them? He'd ask him in the morning, he decided. He put the sketchbook on the bedside and turned over to sleep.

Of course, Alex didn't remember about the rings at any point. This was good, because it took John six months to save up for the ring he decided on: a gold ring with an emerald in the middle, and two smaller diamonds either side. He'd drawn how each original design would look on Alex's hand, and decided that would be the nicest. He spent six months working odd jobs, as well as his magazine column, saving up every cent he could. Finally he had managed to get it made and purchase it.

They were in France when John proposed. They had been in Paris for Hercules and Lafayette's wedding - a wonderful event. John had bought a separate sketchbook to give them as a surprise on their wedding day - full of sketches of Laf and Herc together, most of them stolen from their respective Instagram accounts. The final drawing in that book was a copy of a picture John had taken that very day - Laf and Herc's first kiss as a married couple. Hercules cried when he saw that one. The wedding itself was perfect: Lafayette and Hercules had added their own personal vows to the other, which were both funny and sweet. Hercules had designed and made his own clothes, and looked undeniably handsome. Lafayette wore flowers in their hair and a fitted suit that Hercules had made for them years ago. Their first dance was to a French love song that Lafayette translated for Hercules, whispering the sweet phrases as they danced. John was Herc's best man, and his speech was very funny. Hercules' own speech was beautiful - Lafayette stood up and kissed him in the middle of it. Overall, the occasion was wonderful, and by the end of it the couple looked so unbelievably happy. It was everything John was now certain he wanted with Alex.

-

They stayed in Paris for another three days. John proposed on their final night. They were walking by the river that their hotel overlooked, hand in hand in the moonlight, the small velvet box in John's pocket. When they came to a bench, they stopped at sat down. Alex only had to look at John and he was being pulled in for a long kiss.  
"What was that for, hmm?" Alex asked, resting his forehead against John's.  
John smiled. "Because I finally can, Alex."  
"Finally? We've been together for over two years!" Alex laughed.  
"Yeah, but I loved you for over three years before that. I didn't get to kiss you then." John drew his head away so he could look properly into Alex's eyes. Alex only responded with a shaky laugh and a curious look.  
"Six years, I've loved you now. Six whole years." John continued. He hadn't made a plan for this.  
"I've got no idea why you continued loving me for three-and-a-bit years when, as far as you knew, I didn't love you back. I did love you, obviously, but you had no idea. I'm not that great. Why didn't you give up on me?" Alex asked, looking genuinely curious.  
"I tried to, believe me." John looked down at his lap, unsure of how to continue. "I was convinced you were straight. But, God, Alex, you did something to me. You're so goddamn beautiful, and smart and intelligent and funny and you're my best friend - my best friend that I also get to make out with." He looked up at Alex, who looked simultaneously happy and like he was about to cry. John got off the bench and got down on one knee in front of Alex, who gasped.  
"I love you, and I've realised that I always will, so..." John took the velvet box out of his pocket, and grinned. "Alexander Hamilton, will you marry me?"  
Alex smiled, eyes brimming with tears. "Yes," he whispered.  
They both stood up, and John slipped the ring onto Alex's finger as they kissed. When Alex looked down to admire the ring, he smiled. It was the very same one that John had drawn in his sketchbook a thousand times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like this one! - Anna


	4. To The Groom!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is technically being published in the early hours of Monday (twenty to one) rather than on Sunday, so I apologize for that...
> 
> There is smut in this chapter, so If you don't like it, start scrolling at "There are some drawings, however..." and skip that entire paragraph.

As soon as Alex and John returned from Paris, they decided to tell Hercules and Lafayette about their engagement. This, however, did not go exactly to plan. 

They arrived back home two days after John proposed, after their plane was horribly delayed due to heavy snow, extremely jet-lagged and in need of several weeks of not doing very much at all to recover. Not that long after the holiday, Alex started a new job working as a lawyer for George Washington, an old friend, presidential hopeful and ex-army general who was involved in many a legal dispute, and generally short in staff (largely down to an alleged affair he’d had with his previous secretary, which, coincidentally, was the subject of one of the lawsuits filed against him), John started working with a human rights group to create political artwork. The next time John and Alex had a break at the same time, Hercules and Lafayette were on holiday in Geneva, meaning that it was nearly two months before Alex and John had a chance (and remembered) to tell them about the engagement. 

The day that it finally happened, it was a rainy Saturday evening, and they were all (including, for some reason, James Madison and Thomas Jefferson) sitting around the dining table in Hercules and Lafayette’s new apartment, eating Herc’s delicious home made lasagne and drinking the champagne that John and Alex had scraped together enough money for, and bought for Herc and Lafayette’s house warming meal.  

“This is _tres_ _délici_ _eux_ _, mon amour,_ ” said Lafayette appreciatively, queueing a chorus of murmurs of various variations of “Yes, lovely” from around the table. Jefferson poured himself some more champagne. They talked about the election- they all (albeit in some cases reluctantly) agreed that Washington was probably the best, or at least the “least worst” candidate; Brexit- everyone was mostly pro-remain (even, surprisingly, Jefferson), and global warming before getting onto the topic of foreign food, which led to Jefferson and Lafayette having a hearty discussion about France, during which Hercules realised that John and Alex were yet to tell him and Lafayette about their time in Paris after the wedding. 

“So, _mes_ _amis_ _,_ what did you do? Anything...” Lafayette paused, then smirked, “ _Intéréssant_ happen?” They asked, waggling their eyebrows. 

“Don’t answer that, I really don’t want to know.” Hercules cut in hastily. 

“Awww,” Alex pretended to whine, “I was looking forward to telling you all about our sexcapades!” 

Madison choked on his champagne. Everyone else burst into fits of laughter. 

“Alexander, _mon_ _chéri_ _,_ you’re one of my best friends and I love you, but please, _please_ , never say “sexcapades” ever, ever again,” Lafayette choked out in between giggles. 

“No, but in all seriousness, what happened after we split? I don’t think you’ve has a chance to tell us since we’ve got back, we’ve all been so busy.” Hercules had managed to keep a straight face. 

Alex looked at John questioningly. _Should I tell them?_ John gave a subtle nod. _Yes_ _._  

“Well, on the first two days after the wedding, we just did some exploring, saw the sights, that kind of thing, you know? That of course was lovely by itself, but the best part was probably the last- full- day.” Alex paused and looked up at the other people at the table. 

“Why was that the best?” It was Lafayette who voiced what Alex was obviously waiting for. 

“Look, I’m really sorry we didn’t tell you earlier, but, uhh...” He went bright red and trailed off. 

“I proposed to him,” John intervened. 

James Madison choked on his champagne again. 

Lafayette started shouting. Jefferson looked dumbfounded. Chaos erupted all around the table, filling the dining room with a cacophony enough to wake the dead. 

Once everything had settled down, Madison could breathe once more, and Lafayette stopped shouting, John and Alex were allowed to explain themselves to the rest of the group. 

"We're engaged," said John, "And we're really sorry that we didn't tell you earlier, but we haven't really had time, what with both of us getting new jobs and your holiday in Geneva and everything- we meant to, we really did just life got in the way, you know?" 

"Life got in the way!" Lafayette exclaimed incredulously, "You've been engaged for _two months_ and didn't tell us because 'Life got in the way'? That is life! A phone call would have sufficed! But no, 'Life got in the way'." 

John looked sheepish. 

"So... When do you think you'll be having the wedding?" Hercules looked genuinely curious. 

"Oh- uhm, we haven't really thought about it that much. Autumn would be nice, I guess." 

The rest of the evening was taken up with discussing their engagement and the imminent. After a few more drinks, Hercules exclaimed drunkenly, "I wanna be flower boy!", which a slightly more sober John wrote down to hold him to his word at the actual wedding.  

The weeks quickly melted into months, and soon enough it was late September, and, more importantly, one week before the wedding. Sitting at home, stressing, John and Alex were both wholly unprepared when Hercules and Lafayette burst through their door and exclaimed that they were going to have to go to their individual surprise bachelor parties like _right now_ , because each of them had different bars to get to, each containing a different group of friends/family/loose acquaintances waiting for them to arrive and it was _absolutely imperative_  that they arrived within the next half an hour and that _yes_ it was necessary that was a surprise and that it served them right for not telling them about their engagement sooner. 

Lafayette took John and Hercules took Alex to their respective parties, and the night passed fairly quickly amidst many an alcoholic drink, and it resulted in some fairly ridiculous drunken sketches from John after his party arrived back at the apartment at around 4 am, drunk out of their minds and singing loudly. 

The wedding itself was held on the first of October, a beautiful clear day with just a hint of frost.It took place in a field next to some woods with a small stream flowing through it. A blanket of red and orange leaves carpeted the ground, and provided a beautiful contrast from the white suits the grooms were wearing and the white chairs laid out on the ground. Alex and John both had leaves braided into their hair. George Washington gave Alex away, and had tears in his eyes as he walked the young man down the aisle. The minister smiled warmly as she proclaimed Alex and John husband and husband. Tears poured down John's face as he kissed Alex for the first time as a married couple, and he whispered to him, 

"I can't believe how lucky I am to be marrying you right now," before kissing his husband again. 

Their first dance was to _Panic! At The Disco_ 's "Always", and it caused many people to cry, including both of the Washingtons, Hercules (who did end up being flower boy), and Friedrich von Steuben, a 6'4" drill sergeant who'd been in the army with Washington.  

All three Schuyler siblings had been bridesmaids (or the nearest equivalent, seeing as there wasn't actually a bride, and Peggy wasn't technically a girl).  

Jefferson and Madison were there and had surprised everyone by dancing together and then kissing when their song was over. (To which Alex said "It's just like Jefferson to try and one-up me at my own wedding," and John replied, "No one could one-up you; it's your wedding") 

John, of course, draws all of it. The Washingtons, with proud tears in their eyes, Hercules throwing petals all over Alex and John, the Schuylers spinning on the dance floor, dresses swirling out around them, Lafayette with a glass of champagne in their hand- even the minister gets drawn, smiling and happy while she officiates their marriage. 

There are some drawings, however, that John would prefer did not get discovered by, well, anyone. On the night of their wedding, at around 2am, they collapsed in their hotel room onto the plush bed and started to undress each other. Breathy and speechless, they were the epitome of loving- gentle and caring with each other even at moments like this. John practically ripped off Alex's suit, and once they were both suitably undressed, John started pressing kisses to his husband's chest, slowly making his way down over his stomach before kissing around the place where Alex so desperately wanted to be touched and instead ghosting his mouth over his inner thighs, flicks of his tongue sending shivers down Alex's spine. Once John runs out of places to kiss he doesn't take Alex's cock in his mouth (much to Alex's disappointment) and instead grabs the lube on the nightstand, lubes himself adequately, then repositions them both so he could start to push into Alex. Alex lets out a gasp as he feels John's cock enter him, and his moans get louder and louder as John moves faster and faster, hips moving in rhythm with Alex's. This culminated with Alex screaming out John's name as he felt John come inside of him, sending him over the edge as well.  

They fell back onto the bed, and still naked and sticky, John began to draw what Alex looked like while he was mid-orgasm, mouth parted from the screams of pleasure that had escaped his lips, eyes closed, raw and beautiful, immortalised within the pages of John's sketchbook. They eventually settled down, curled into each other, and fell asleep. 

The last thing either of them heard before sleep took them in was the murmured "I love you"s from the other. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it, please let me know what you think of the chapter in the comments. ~Grace


	5. Hey, Our Kid Is Pretty Great

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title says it all fam.

Not long after their wedding, John and Alex had talked about having children. Both wanted kids, and they were prepared to adopt when Eliza Schuyler had made them a very surprising - and wonderful - offer.

They had been over at the Schuylers' one afternoon, and as they were eating lunch the subject of Alex and John's married life had come up. "Are you two planning to have children?" Angelica had asked. "Yes, definitely," John had replied. "We've been talking about adopting for a while now, actually."  
"Adoption?" Eliza had spoke up. "Wouldn't you rather have a surrogate mother? That way your children would look like you. That's what I'd do if I were in a gay relationship, anyway."  
"Which you are." Peggy cut in.  
"What?"  
"Maria," the youngest Schuyler grinned.  
"I don't know what you're-" Eliza looked flustered.  
"Anyway," Alexander had interrupted, trying not to laugh. "I guess it would be nice to have a surrogate, but neither of us know anyone who'd be willing to do it."  
"I would," said Eliza. She'd said it casually - as if carrying someone else's child for nine months was as little a favour as going to buy their groceries.  
"Really?" John looked shocked, but happy at the same time.  
"Why not? I'm not planning to have any of my own any time soon, and you guys are my best friends."  
"You'd be willing to go through labour for us?" Alex couldn't believe it.  
"Yes. And I'm counting on one of you to faint, because I need to be prepared for every circumstance that could happen when I'm giving birth to my own children." Eliza had smiled.  
Alex and John just laughed nervously - they had the best friend in the world, they'd decided.

Nine months later, Eliza had given birth to a baby boy - Philip Laurens-Hamilton. Of course, John drew him a thousand times. Drew him being held by Eliza, only moments after his birth. Drew himself, Alex and Eliza sitting on the hospital bed, marvelling at the life they'd created together. Drew Philip in Alex's arms at 3am, Alex looking exhausted but happy. Drew the three of them together, Philip enthusiastically tugging on Alex's hair. Alex and John had never been happier.

Alex was holding their second child in his arms now. Only two months ago, Eliza had given birth to another Laurens-Hamilton child, this time a girl named Frances. It was five-thirty on a Sunday morning, and Alex and John had woken up to the sound of crying. Alex was walking around the room, rocking their baby girl and humming softly. John was sitting up in bed with the sketchbook, making sure he drew Alex's hair falling into his face exactly right. Alex sat down on the bed next to John, who promptly put the sketchbook down. "Pass her here," he told Alex, who did so. John kissed Frances on the forehead, being gentle as could be. John could still barely believe this was his life. He was married to the love of his life, they had two beautiful children, and his job made him feel like he was making a difference. Alex leaned over him and grabbed the sketchbook, sighing happily as he opened it. "John, sweetheart, these look lovely, but I'd much rather you actually dealt with our children at 3am instead of drawing me doing it," he joked.  
"Oh, shut up," said John, smiling. "And give it back. You aren't supposed to look in there."  
"I've been looking through it for seven years, with your knowledge. Why you still act like an embarrassed twelve year old when I do it, I've got no idea, especially considering I adore everything you draw," Alex teased.  
"That's because I only ever draw you or our children, and you're a self-centred asshole," John shot back, grinning.  
"Don't swear in front of the baby!" Alex elbowed John, causing him to laugh and elbow Alex back, which was pretty difficult when holding a sleeping baby."Hey, shut up - you'll wake Philip up," Alex pointed out. As if on cue, their three year old son ran into the room and began jumping on the bed. Alex, managing a smile, got up off the bed and picked Philip up, causing the three year old to giggle as his father kissed the top of his head several times, before saying, "Hey, be quiet - we don't want to wake your sister up, do we?"  
Philip shook his head and put a finger on his lips. John and Alex shared a look, both smiling at their son. Once he was certain that Frances was asleep and would remain that way for a while, John placed his daughter in her crib and whispered to Alex and Philip, "Since we're all up, who wants breakfast?"  
Twenty minutes later the three of them were sitting around the table eating pancakes. John made sure to commit the image of Philip pouring too much chocolate sauce on his breakfast to memory, as well as the image of Alex trying to stop his son doing that. Of course those two images would eventually appear in the sketchbook, as well as one of John himself feeding Frances later that morning. So would one of Philip sitting in Alex's lap later that day, singing along to the theme of a children's TV show. So would so many images over the years. Across Philip and Frances' childhoods, John drew everything. Philip getting ready for his first day of school. Frances on her second birthday, cake on her face and grinning happily. Philip with his best friend, Theodosia Burr, playing everything from doctors to princesses together. Frances with her own school friends, all of them with fairy wings on their backs and plastic tiaras on their heads. Both of them together on holiday, Philip holding his sister's hand as they walked towards the sea. Most children, when they were growing up, got given photo albums. Philip and Frances got their father's sketchbooks. There must have been loads by the time Philip had turned ten. Alex showed John's drawings to their children often, the three of them marvelling at John's talent, John himself blushing. None of them would have had it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this chapter - let me know what you think in the comments! - Anna (castomydean)


	6. I'll Do Whatever It Takes, I'll Make A Million Mistakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOOO!!!!! FINALLY!!!! (sorry about the late update)

All through his childhood, Philip was encouraged to draw. (Frances had less of a natural affinity for art than her brother). John poured his time and money into encouraging him to practice art. From buying him countless sketchbooks and colouring pencils as a younger child, to even taking him to the Louvre in France for his 16th birthday, both parents encouraged Philip to pursue a career in art as much as they could. When he was ten, John showed Philip his old sketchbooks- showed him all of the pictures of him and Frances as toddlers, of John and Alex's wedding, of the first date- even some of the pictures from before they started dating. 

"You look so young!" Exclaimed Philip upon seeing the earlier pictures, earning a chuckle from his father.  

"We were. We were only twenty-two when these were drawn. Thirteen whole years ago!" 

Philip's eyes went wide and he uttered a "Wow!" Before turning back to the sketchbook and rifling through the pages. After a while, he looked up at John quizzically. 

"Didn't Daddy think it was a bit creepy that you were drawing all these pictures of him without him knowing?"John froze. 

"Well, I- uhh, I-I mean I don't think he did? I've never really- uh- thought about it that way, I suppose..." 

"You are silly!" Philip giggled, before running off to play. 

After all the time dedicated to helping Philip with building his art skills, to say it was a bit of a surprise to Alex and John when he dropped Art as a subject would be a massive understatement. Instead, he chose home economics. The argument that followed was not in any way pleasant. 

"You...What?" 

Philip looked defiantly at John. 

"I dropped art," he said, face set. 

The silence hung heavy in he air. 

"What do you mean you dropped art?" John asked coldly. 

"I'm not taking art as a subject anymore. I decided to do home economics instead." 

Then, noise erupted all around him. John started shouting, Alex desperately tried to calm him down, and Frances started shrieking, tears running down her face. Philip felt like he was going to cry. 

"Listen!" He shouted during a brief lull in the noise, "I know you're disappointed, I-I know you've spent countless hours funding my "Future in art", and that all that money may have been wasted, and that I'll never get into a good arts college or anything you had planned for me, and maybe you won't love me as much no that I'm not some prodigy or whatever, but," Tears started leaking from his eyes as he choked back a sob, "-but I don't think you ever stopped, not even once, to see what I wanted to do. Never! And I-I don't want to be an artist! And both of you have been wasting so much time on teaching me how to do photo-realistic drawings, or-or taking me to art galleries that probably cost a lot more than you let on, that we never do anything un-art related anymore! When was the last time we went on a holiday in which I didn't have to sketch? Or have an outing to a place that isn't s-some art gallery, or-or museum, or something? I enjoy making art, but not this much! 

"A-and what about Frances? You've spent so much time worrying about my competitions and-and whatever, you barely pay attention to her!" 

John interrupted "Frances has nothing to do with this, Philip!" 

"OPEN YOUR FUCKING EYES!" 

"Don't you _dare_ say that kind of thing to-" 

"NO! Can't you see? There is clearly something wrong with her- she's almost fourteen, for god's sake, and she's practically shutting down over there just because you raised your voices at me. Whenever we go out in public, she starts panicking because it's too noisy. She never talks to other kids unless they talk to her first. She hates the colour pink for no apparent reason. She hates being touched without her permission. Get a medical dictionary- google it for all I care. 

"You never asked me what I wanted to be when I was older- you just assumed. Well I'm gonna be a doctor. And I'm gonna be the _best goddamn doctor you've ever seen._ " The last part was said through gritted teeth. Philip had tears streaking his face, and was starting to hyperventilate. He took one last look at his parents before running out of the house, slamming the door behind him. 

"Oh Alex- What have I done?" 

 

Philip ran down the street, not knowing where he was going, tears blurring his vision, sobs wracking his chest. _Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod_ _._ Thoughts whirled around his head, anxiety welling up inside his chest, breathing uneven and fast. He stopped by a wall, not knowing where he was, and slid to the ground, suddenly realising that he had nowhere to go, nothing with him, no food or water or money or anything except the clothes on his back. He was fully hyperventilating now, gasping for breaths that didn't do anything, that wouldn't seem to stay in his chest, no matter how hard he tried. 

"Oh my god- are you okay?" Through the tears Philip saw a fuzzy, brownish blob of a person coming towards him. "No- stupid question- you're having a panic attack. Okay- think Theodosia, _think-_ what would Dad do? I have no fucking idea what dad would do, but this is not helping- okay," she laid a hand gently on Philip's shoulder. "Hi, I need you to breathe with me, okay? Breathe in- one, two, three, four, now hold your breath, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, okay now exhale, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight." Philip's head began to clear as his breathing evened out. "Breathe in for four, hold for seven, and out for eight. It counteracts the fight-or-flight response you're getting which is causing you to panic. Plus it stops you from hyperventilating and evens out your breathing. Just carry on doing it until you feel better. You're gon' be okay." 

Philip's breathing returned mostly to normal, and he wiped the tears from his eyes, before looking up at the girl. She was sporting a rather impressive afro, sunglasses, and a pink sundress. There was a shimmer of golden glitter over her cheekbones. She was probably around his age. 

She sat down next to him. 

"I'm Theodosia- Theodosia Burr. You can call me Theo if you want, but you don't have to." 

"H-hi. I'm Philip Hamilton-Laurens. S-s-sorry about that." 

"Oh no! It wasn't your fault. Nice to meet ya Philip. I think my dad works with your dad." 

"Really? Which one?" Philip asked, without realising what he said. Theo smiled. 

"The "Hamilton" one.” 

“Oh- Uh, I don’t think he ever mentioned the Burrs, at least not to me,” Philip said. 

“So...” Theodosia said after a while of sitting in silence, “D’you wanna go home now? I can walk with you if ya want.” She offered him a small smile, which he returned. 

“Uh, no I don’t think that’s a good idea right now- going home, I mean,” his face flushing with embarrassment. 

“It’s getting late,” said Theodosia, looking at her phone, “nearly eight- hey, have you had anything to eat for dinner yet? You’re looking a bit pale.” 

“Nearly eight? B-but I left home a-at half six... I couldn’t have walked for that long could I? Now that you mention it... my feet do hurt quite a lot- I don’t think I did eat dinner either.” He looked frantic, talking more to himself than to Theodosia. 

“Hey look- kid, this might sound crazy, but do ya wanna stay at my house tonight? My dad won’t mind too much- you could sleep on the sofa bed...” She trailed off, lost in thought, before saying, “You don’t have to, of course- I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything.” 

“Uh- I mean, if it’s not too much trouble... I don’t want to be inconvenient or anything... But yeah, that’d be great.” He paused. “Uh, silly question, but, uh, how do I know that you’re not evil or anything?” He flushed, heat creeping up his cheeks. Theodosia laughed, a pretty, warm laugh, half giggle, half chuckle. 

“You can’t, I guess. I mean, if I wanted to kill you, I could have done it by now, so...” She trailed off, a smirk dancing on her features. “Come on, I promise not to kill you,” she said, standing up. She pulled him up, then offered him her arm. He took it.  

While walking back to Theodosia’s house, Philip explained why he was having a panic attack by a wall several miles from his house, and Theodosia listened to his story without once interrupting him.  

After walking for around ten minutes, they arrived at a row of large, expensive looking, white washed apartment buildings.  

“Here we are!” said Theodosia, then leapt up the stairs, letting herself in before gesturing for Philip to follow. Inside was a nice, well furnished lobby area with a staircase to one side, and a single door to the other. She unlocked the door and led Philip into an open-plan dining room/living room/kitchen area. 

“Dad!” She called, “I’m home!” 

A man in his late thirties appeared from a door in the hallway, a cat balanced precariously on his shoulder, a pen tucked behind his ear, and a large book in his hands. 

“Theo! Can you just grab Hamilton for me? My hands are full- Oh! Who are you?” 

Theodosia rushed forward and grabbed the cat off her father’s shoulder just before it fell off. 

Philip cleared his throat. 

“I’m Philip- Philip Hamilton-Laurens.” 

“Philip! Son of Alexander, I suppose?” 

“Uh- Yeah,” Philip felt himself blush again. “You have a cat named after my dad?” 

“Oh, well I guess we do...” The man paused, looking puzzled, “He used to be Martha Washington’s, you know, bit then she gave him to us- it doesn’t really matter.” He inspected Philip. “So, why are you here?” 

Philip opened his mouth to explain, but Theo cut in first. 

“Dad, he’s had a bad argument with his dads- he needs somewhere to stay for tonight, he could sleep on the sofa bed or something...” she looked at her father pleadingly. 

“Okay, but we sort this out tomorrow. Do you need something to eat, Philip? I think we have some left over pizza in the fridge if you want it.” 

A smile tore through Philip’s face. 

“Please.” 

And so Theodosia Burr came into the life of Philip Hamilton-Laurens.  

The next day Philip woke up to 17 voicemails from both of his dads, which he answered with a quick text of “I’m fine don’t worry will text you later”, and the rather delicious smell of pancakes cooked by Mr. Burr (“Call me Aaron”). 

It turned out that Theodosia was in Philip’s year at school, and they had one lesson together-Home Economics.  

Aaron talked to Alex at work, and Philip went back home that night to a tearful John apologising profusely to him, until Philip pulled him into a tight hug. They stood there like that for several minutes; father and son, apologising. (John certainly drew that later on). 

A few months after the argument, Frances was diagnosed with autism, as Philip suspected. Suddenly, the focus wasn't on Philip any more- and he had to say that he absolutely loved not being the centre of attention any more. 

Most of the time, people didn't even realise that Frances was autistic; they just thought she was "a bit odd". This led to no-one wanting to be her friend whatsoever. Her school refused to accommodate her, insisting that she got therapy or treatment or something that would "stop her from being that way" (in the words of the principle).  

By the end of the school year the bullying had gotten so bad that Frances would come home crying nearly every day, begging John and Alex to let her leave school. 

And so they did. 

Come September, Frances was enrolled in a school for children with disabilities and special needs that was situated just outside the city- half an hours train ride away. The school promised to cater for any needs Frances might have, and had a strict anti-bullying policy that would prove to be highly beneficial. Every morning, John would get on the train with Frances, go to the stop near her school, then walk her to the gates, where she would be met by her new best friend, Maria Jefferson. 

When Alex found out about his daughter's friendship with Maria, he wasn't exactly pleased, as her father was none other than Mr. Thomas Jefferson himself. 

"Mr Jefferson! Thomas- can we speak for a minute?" Jefferson looked affronted. 

"Why, may I ask, are you being polite all of a sudden? I don't like it." 

"You didn't tell me that one of your daughters was deaf." 

"Hamilton, you only know I have multiple daughters in the first place because you were eavesdropping on a private conversation. What makes you think that you're entitled to any details about my private life? Just because you like to horrifically overshare, doesn't mean we all do." 

"Well, It has come to my attention that our daughters have become rather good friends over the past few weeks of going to school together, and I just want you to know that in the event that we will be forced to socialise because of this, I, personally, will try to act as civilly as possible, and I highly suggest you do the same." 

"John set you up for this didn't he?" 

"Uh- Yes." 

While all this was happening, Philip started to develop romantic feelings for Theodosia, who was by far his closest friend. They shared nearly everything with each other, told each other their deepest, darkest secrets. Philip only really got feelings for people when they were very close, but that had the side affect of him not asking the subject of his affections out, for fear of ruining their friendship. He said this to Theodosia. 

"Listen, Theo, I need to tell you something. I-I have feelings for you- like, romantic ones. Like "I would like to go out on dates, and kiss in the rain, and snuggle together when either of us are feeling sad, and hold hands, and send cute texts to each other in the middle of the night" kind of feelings. B-but I don't want to ruin our friendship, or anything. I've only really started feeling this way recently, and I don't want to seem like I only value you If I can sleep with you- I'm not entirely sure whether I actually want to sleep with you to be perfectly honest. Nothing to do with you, of course, I just... Don't see the appeal, you know? But the thing is, I think I love you? No- I know I do. I love you and your occasional colloquialisms and the way you are simultaneously the biggest nerd ever and also a girl who would quite readily rip someone's head off if they were being a dick, and your hair, and your knowledge of anatomy and also home remedies and first aid, and that your cat is named after my dad, and your love of balloons, and the way you always know how to make me happy. 

"Theo, you're my best friend, and I wouldn't trade you for anyone. I know I'm rambling, and I'm sorry, but you are the single person I can trust with everything, and I can't keep this from you any longer. If you don't feel this way, I understand." He looked at Theodosia, sad, reserved, hopeful. 

Theo looked him in the eye, placed her hand on his cheek, and leant in. 

"Can I kiss you?" She asked quietly. 

"Please." 

She did. It was a bit messy, and probably not the best kiss in the world, but they would get better with practice. 

So for now they stood there, lips on lips, pure love sealing a bond that would never be broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Grace here. I'm really sorry that this chapter is late. And rushed. And weirdly formatted. It's 3am and I cba to edit the chapter so here u go. I've not been feeling 100% lately, and my cousins are visiting from South Korea, so I've been really busy and tired and also procrastinating (whoops) Hope you enjoyed this chapter. If my portrayal of autism is at all inaccurate, I'm sorry, please correct me if need be, I blame google. (Also, to make up for the late update, this is considerably longer than all of my other chapters- 2844 words in total)


	7. You'll Come Of Age With Our Young Nation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a lot of growing up

Philip shared a look with Theodosia as they stood together at the front door of the Burr household. He and Theo were going to prom together, and of course Mr Burr couldn't resist taking photos. Philip had already had to endure this by himself at his own house; it was admittedly easier with Theodosia there. "Right, dad, that's enough," she said, smiling but firm.   
"Alright, alright. Have fun, you two." Mr Burr (Philip still wouldn't call him Aaron) smiled.  
Philip turned so he was facing Theo, and held his arm out. "Shall we go, m'lady?" he asked, clowning around. Theodosia rolled her eyes, but laughed at her boyfriend's antics. She took Philip's arm and together they walked out to the waiting car.

Philip and Theodosia had been dating for a few months now. Philip still vividly remembered telling his parents about Theo. He grinned at the memory.  
He'd been having dinner with his parents and Frances. They'd been discussing something Alexander was going through at work and Philip had blurted out "Oh yeah, I'm going out for lunch tomorrow."  
"With who?" John had asked, smirking. Philip was fairly sure his father had never truly grown up; he always wanted to know whatever gossip there was in Philip's life.   
"Theodosia," Philip had answered shortly, attempting to avoid any awkwardness.  
"You finally asked her out, then?" Frances had piped up, smirking.  
"No," Philip had said, before grinning back at his sister. "She asked me out."  
John laughed, Alex just nodded. "As long as you're not dating a Jefferson."  
Everyone had laughed except for Frances, who turned a deep shade of red. "Um, actually, papa..."  
Alexander looked at his daughter for a while before saying "Oh god, you're serious, um...What are you laughing at?" John had started giggling into his glass of water. Before long, Philip was laughing too. Alex sighed at them both and turned back to Frances, who was laughing nervously. "Maria, I'm guessing?" Alex had said. Well, that was better than Frances had expected.  
"Um, yes." Frances looked mortified.  
"Well, I can't stop you, can I? Tell her that she's welcome here any time she wants, but if she breaks your heart I will take it out on her father." Frances was shocked but pleased at her father's words. Silence had fallen on the room after that, for about five minutes at least, until Philip smirked across the table at his sister and whispered, "Called it."  
Frances had choked on her mouthful of food.

Philip and Theo danced together for the entire duration of the prom. Theo looked beautiful in her dress, it was long and midnight blue, with a diamanté shape where the dress tightened at the waist. Philip's tie matched the colour of the dress, and he wore a fitted black suit that looked very nice on him. The night ended with Philip and Theo slow-dancing, and giggling as they got into the car to take them home. Theo rested her head on Philip's shoulder in back seat, and was almost asleep by the time they pulled up outside her house. Philip kissed her goodbye and spent the five minute journey to his house thinking about her. It was a strange feeling, and maybe he wouldn't say it out loud just yet, but he was in love.  
Three years later, Frances and Maria attended their own prom together. Frances wore emerald green and Maria wore deep purple. When Philip received a photo of them together from Alex and John, he joked that they were trying to look like a suffragette sash. The two girls had an equally wonderful time as Philip and Theodosia had had at their prom. Frances had been nervous about going; having severe social anxiety as a side effect of her autism was not the best situation for a room of about two hundred people. Maria, who really wanted to go, had comforted Frances as best she could, and the two ended up having a lot of fun. It was one of those rare moments where Frances really came out of her shell and enjoyed herself with other people. The only way it could have possibly been better, Frances thought, is if Maria could have heard the words of the final song that was played, 'I Could Have Danced All Night'. It described exactly how Frances felt in that moment.

Philip was in college at this point, studying medicine like he'd wanted to. Theodosia had decided to take English literature, as she hoped to be a successful author. They both graduated, and got married a few months after. Luckily Aaron Burr had been willing to be traditional and pay for the wedding, and what a perfect day it was. They were married in mid-February, when the snow was just beginning to melt. Frances was a bridesmaid, and she looked beautiful in pale blue. Theodosia wore a beautiful ballgown-style dress, with a long, flowing skirt and a diamanté pattern on the chest. Philip's face when he saw her in her dress for the first time said everything he was thinking - the obvious. He was thinking that Theodosia was the most stunning girl he'd ever seen, and that there was no one on this planet that he'd rather see walking down that isle. The ceremony was very sweet, and Theo couldn't help giggling when Philip started tearing up during the vows. John drew everything. Philip and Theodosia, hand in hand, pledging to love each other for the rest of their lives. Frances holding a small bouquet as she followed Theo down the isle. Alex crying as he saw his son walk back down the isle, arm in arm with Theodosia, looking happy as could be.

Years later, John drew Frances' wedding to Maria. The two signing "I do", each looking at the other as if they had flung the stars in the sky. The brides doing a joint speech, Frances translating Maria's sign language and blushing at a comment Maria made about her. Alex deliberately looking bored as Thomas made his speech. Philip speaking as his sIster's best man, looking proud as ever. Philip and Theodosia's two-and-a-half year old daughter Eliza (named after the woman Philip considered his mother) holding a small posy as the flower girl.

Alex and John had never been happier. They were both getting on in years, but had everything they could wish for. Both of their children were accomplished and married to the loves of their lives, they had a grandchild who no one could help but adore, and they were happy together. Neither of them could have asked for more. After all, what could they possibly want when they had all this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the shortness of this chapter, hope you enjoy it regardless. Please comment what you think! - Anna


	8. Blow Us All Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update.  
> Sorry for the chapter.  
> (The name of the hospital has god the same name as the one from House MD. Don't judge me)  
> Trigger Warning for death.

It was a Thursday afternoon when they got the phone call that would ruin their lives.

  
Theo was walking home from the shops when it happened, Eliza, now twelve, was spending the day at her best friend’s birthday party. Theo was enjoying the warm spring air, breathing in the smells of the city, of flowers and pastries and petrol and smoke and perfume and people, when she felt her phone buzz. It was Abby, one of Philip’s co-workers.

  
“Hey Abby, is everything okay?”

  
 _Philip was in the hospital cafeteria, having lunch with Abby Adams, the other paediatrician working in his ward, when the fire alarm sounded, and the cafeteria descend into utter chaos. People frantically grabbed their belongings and loved ones, hastily trying to get out of the door in a mad rush. Philip shot to his feet, suddenly realising that there were approximately five nurses on hand in the paediatrics ward at that time, and approximately 20 kids unable to walk in the same ward. He sprinted through the cluster of people, pushing out of the way to get to the door, Abby hot on his trail. They raced down the corridor, alarms blaring all around them, smoke getting thicker as they neared the ward. The nurses were rushing kids out, and screamed at the pair not to go in there, that there wasn’t anything they could do. They ignored them. Abby peered into all the beds, searching for any left behind children, and scooped them up. Once she was carrying three young children, and pushing another in a wheelchair, she pushed through the burning wreckage of the ward, desperately trying to get them out of the nearest exit. Philip was almost at the door when he realised that there was another child, one who would have tried to hide when the alarms went off. He dropped the kids outside and rushed back in, smoke filling his lungs, fire lapping at his legs and arms. “Steven!” He called “Ste-” He burst into a fit of coughs. His eyes stung. He raced to the bathroom, the heat almost unbearable. Soot covered his face and scrubs, his eyes stung, and he was bleeding badly from a deep cut on his side where he’d tripped over something trying to make his way through the smoke. Burns covered his hands. He opened the door and saw Steven lying unconscious on the floor. Philip checked for a pulse and-to his relief- found one. He picked up the boy and fought his way through the smoke, desperately attempting to navigate, despite barely being able to see. Smoke filled his lungs with each breath, until he could barely breathe at all. It was all black and hot and painful and his head was swimming and his knees buckled beneath him as he took one final breath._  

  
“I-I’m so sorry.” Dread filled Theodosia’s heart at the sound of her friend’s voice cracking with tears.

  
“Abby?” Theo asked, voice wavering.  “What’s going on?”

  
“T-there was a-a fire. At th-the hospital. I-Philip... He went back for th-this kid who’d hidden in the b-b-bathroom, a-and,” Her voice faltered, and Theodosia listened to the sobs on the other side of the phone, letting the words sink in. Abby coughed and continued. “W-we were taken to the Princeton-Plainsboro hospital a few miles away... They did all they could- b-but he-he isn’t going to make it.” Theodosia could hear her friend’s sobs echoing down the line, heard her coughs and wails, each sound driving home what she’d just heard. Philip was...

  
“I-I’ll be right there.” Theo hung up and stumbled to the nearest bench,  collapsed onto it and stared forward, tears streaming down her face, choking back sobs.

  
“Theo! Hel- Theo, what’s wrong?” It was Alexander. Theo flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, shoulders shaking violently, loud, ugly sobs escaping her mouth.

  
She shakily explained what had happened, words barely recognisable behind the crying. Alexander visibly slumped, and his eyes filled with tears.

  
They collapsed into Alex and John’s car, and Alex set off driving quickly towards the hospital. Theo sent a text to John, Frances, and her own father: “Princeton-Plainsboro now. It’s Philip.”, then shakily dialled the house number of the friend who’s sleepover Eliza was at, and explained what had happened to the dad over the phone, before being handed over to Eliza herself.

  
“Eliza, oh honey...”

  
“Mom? What’s happening? Can I go back to my friends?”

  
“I-it’s your dad. There was a-a fire at the hospital... Mr. Wilson is going to drive you over o-okay honey?”

  
“What’s going on? M-Mom?”

  
“I-I love you honey.” Tears trickled down her cheeks as she lowered the phone from her ear and hung up. Next to her, Alex was desperately trying not to cry, blinking furiously, hands gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white.

  
Outside, the sun shone brightly, people were still going about their business happily, oblivious to how Theodosia’s world was coming crashing down. She sobbed loudly. She found herself wondering how life could go on now that Philip was... She shook her head in a desperate attempt to rid herself of the thoughts.   
The rest of the journey passed in a blur. At some point they must have arrived, because Theodosia found herself being led down an unfamiliar hospital corridor, and ushered into an emergency room, and a curtain was being drawn back, and there was Philip, lying on the bed, face mottled by burns on the left side, chest weakly moving up and down, audibly wheezing.

  
“Philip!” Theodosia ran to his side and grasped his hand desperately. Sobs wracked through her body as she hunched over his lifeless body. On his other side, Alex was whispering to himself, crying over his son, looking utterly wretched.

  
“Th-Theo...” Philip began, before breaking off into a fit of coughs. “Theo... I...”

  
“Don’t...” Theo placed a finger to her dying husband’s lips.

  
“Dad!” It was Eliza. “No, no, no, Dad...” she shook her head desperately, and joined Theo, tears streaming down her cheeks. John and Aaron and Frances arrived soon after, and they all sat around Philip’s bed, all crying ugly, horrible tears for a life taken too soon.

  
“I-I...” Philip tried to speak again, “I love you all-” He started coughing again, violent, desperate coughs, blood bubbling at his lips, spasms running through his body until- until there weren’t. His body stilled.

  
“NO!” Eliza wailed, and threw herself at her mother, wrapping her arms around her neck and sobbing onto her shoulder.

  
“Time of death, 2:31 pm.”

  
The rest of the day felt like a dream- or rather, a nightmare. They stayed by Philip until the doctors took his body away to the morgue. It was hard to say who took it worse. Alexander and John fell, sobbing, into each other’s arms, and were soon joined by Theodosia and Eliza and Aaron and Frances, until they were all hugging each other, clinging on to each other as if their lives depended on it.

  
John didn’t draw after that. He didn’t draw Philip lying on his death bed, covered in bandages and burns. Nor did he draw Philip in his coffin, flowers woven into his dark, curly hair, suit pressed neatly, half if his face obscured by bandages, the other half looking as if he could merely be sleeping.

  
The funeral took place in a small, beautiful chapel with huge stained glass windows near to the Hamilton-Laurens house. On the front row Frances and Maria held hands, Maria comforting Frances with her presence, and Alex laid his head on John’s shoulder, feeling the loss together, there for each other always. Without Philip there, Theodosia felt incredibly lonely. Philip had always hated funerals.

  
She heard the vicar call out her name. Shakily, she stood up and made her way to the podium at the front of the hall.

  
She cleared her throat.

  
“I-I don’t really have to say that I’d never imagined I’d have to do this. No one ever expect these things... Until they happen. Philip never liked funerals. He thought they were too sad. Too... I don’t know. He was an amazing man. He was my-my everything. My husband. My soulmate, if you believe in these things. My... My best friend.” Her voice cracked and tears welled up in her eyes. “He was an amazing father, a beloved husband, and a treasured son. He was a hero. He gave his life to save a child’s. He was truly brave. Stupid, yes, but brave.

  
“We should remember him for the person he was. The brave, stupid, beautiful person he was.” Theodosia started to cry, but she continued.

  
“I met him when we were both still in High school. He’d just had an argument with his dads. He was having a panic attack by a wall several miles away from him house when I saw him.  I brought him home, and he slept over at my house. He was so vulnerable and no reason to trust me. But he did. And I think that says a lot about his personality.   
“He was the singular most kind, trusting, amazing person I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. I don’t really know where I’m going with this speech if I’m being honest.” She gave a weak, sad little laugh.

  
“He’d want us to remember his life, not mourn his death. Which is entirely the stupid sort of thing he’d think. I think we’re all going to miss him. I know I am. I’m going to miss him so, so much. But we must carry on. Carry on living, and remembering him, and thinking of him with a smile. May we never forget about this brave, brave, beautiful man. Thank you.” She made her way down back to her seat, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  
After the funeral, they all went back to John and Alex’s house, unable to face going back home when Philip wasn’t there.

  
Alex started going to church.

  
Theo and Eliza moved uptown.

  
Aaron visited his daughter and granddaughter more.

  
Piece by piece, they built up their lives again. But there would always be one piece missing.

  
Philip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry.


	9. And Learn To Live With The Unimaginable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's quiet uptown.

Theodosia woke up to a coffee at 7 o'clock sharp every morning. This was probably the only interesting part of her day. The interesting part was seeing who had brought her the coffee, and what they would say that morning. Sometimes it was her daughter, who had thought to bring her mother a coffee while she got ready for school. Sometimes it was either Maria or Frances; the couple had moved in with Theodosia shortly after Philip's death to make things a little easier for her. Sometimes it was her father, who stayed with his daughter more regularly now.

 

Each day, the reception would be different. On the days when it was her daughter that had brought her the coffee, Theodosia tried to get up. She had a child to put effort into life for, she would think. She had someone to take care of and she wasn't doing anything sitting in bed, she would think. Sometimes the motivation would work. Most of the time it wouldn't. On the days when it was Maria or Frances, she had an excuse not to get up. She was reminded that there were two other women in the house, two women who were probably better mothers to Eliza than Theodosia ever had been, and ever could be again. On the days when it was her father, Theodosia didn't need an excuse not to get up. Her father pitied her, and probably thought it was best for her to stay in bed. So that meant it was okay to stay, right? _Wrong,_ she knew. What she knew didn't change what she felt, and what she felt was too overwhelming to be argued with.

 

This morning, it was Frances who walked in. "Going to get up today?" she asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"Why should I?" Theo responded, with a slight nod of thanks for the coffee that had been placed on her nightstand. Usually she would stop here, but today she was feeling especially bad, so she continued. "I don't have a real job to get up for, my daughter no longer needs me, and I'm sure the rest of my house is in fine condition. Who or what needs me to get up?"

Frances didn't know why this made her so angry. Perhaps it was that she was sick of seeing someone she cared about so much in such a bad state, or maybe everyone in the household was having a bad day. Either way, this morning she couldn't seem to hold back from yelling, "I do, damnit! I need to know there's a bit of _life_ in you, Theo! I need to know you haven't completely given up! I need you to know that you have a daughter, and a father, and parents-in-law and sisters-in-law, who are all suffering just as much as you are but, hell, at least we're all trying to live, because that's what Philip would want us to do. He'd want us to live life to the fullest, no matter what. Did you know your husband at all? Because I knew my brother, and I know he wouldn't want you to be lying here as if it were you that were dead and not him!" Both women were sobbing now. "I'm sorry," Frances whispered, practically unable to talk through her tears.

"Don't be sorry, you're absolutely right. _I_ should be the sorry one, not you. Come here." And Frances sat on the edge of the bed and embraced her sister-in-law. The two women stayed there for a while, crying, tears of sadness and loss but also tears of thanks. "You get ready, now," Frances said when they finally let go. As her sister-in-law left the room, Theodosia looked at the date on her digital clock, and counted. 79 days, it had been. 79 days and she was the last one to begin putting her life back together. She gave a weak smile. At least it was less than a hundred.

 

The look on Eliza's face when Theo walked downstairs was worth every step, she decided. Happy shock filled her daughter's face, and Theo even managed a small laugh when she was caught in a tight, running hug. "Mom!" her daughter exclaimed, looking as if she didn't quite believe what she was seeing. Eliza didn't seem to know what to say. What finally did come out of the twelve-year-old's mouth was "You're dressed!"

"I am," Theodosia replied, smiling and wondering why on earth she hadn't done this earlier. "Want me to walk you to school?"

Eliza nodded with some vigour, and everyone in the room smiled at the fact that such a small thing could make a girl that happy.

 

Over time, their lives improved significantly. The family spent more time with each other than ever. John and Alexander came for dinner more often, accompanied most times by Eliza Schuyler, who had thought of Philip as her son just as much as John and Alex had. Theodosia started writing again. Frances and Maria moved out, although with some difficulty. The two women had become accustomed to living with Theodosia and Eliza, and were afraid of what the outcome of them leaving would be. However, the couple desperately wished to start their own family, and there wouldn't be enough room in Theo's house for Maria and Frances _and_ their baby. So the two had found a house for themselves, and were now talking seriously about adopting - as neither of the two wished to carry a child. Aaron took his daughter and granddaughter for days out more often. And Eliza's artistic talent began to grow and make itself known.

 

It started a few weeks before Theodosia's birthday. Eliza already knew what she wanted to get her mother. Theo had always said that Eliza had her granddad's artistic talent, and John, after seeing some of Eliza's drawings, had agreed. He had spent a good two hours with his granddaughter, showing her the best way to capture the light of a person's face, the easiest way to put detail into someone's eyes. Eliza was now copying photographs, ones from years ago, into a book to give to her mom. She laughed at the pictures of herself as a toddler, and smiled sadly at the ones of her with her dad. She missed him terribly, the way only a child who has lost a parent can. If it hadn't been illegal for her not to attend school, she probably would have gone into the same state as her mother had. However, going to school was the law, so she had let her work, and later her art, become a source of distraction. She worked hard, wanting to make her father proud of her. And now she wanted to make her mother proud. She remembered a time, a couple of years now, where her granddad had shown Theodosia some old drawings, ones of Eliza's father and aunt when they were children. Theodosia had laughed, and Philip had blushed, but all of them had marvelled at John's talent. Eliza had been told a few times that she had inherited it, and oh, how she hoped she had! She certainly wanted to develop that skill in the future.

 

She was sitting on her bed now, carefully copying out a photograph of her four-year-old self, being pushed on a swing by her father. She wished she remembered that day. She wished she remembered more days, more times she'd had, times her parents looked so happy. _Oh well,_ she thought, _at least I can preserve them, even if I don't remember them._

 

Theodosia woke up on her birthday morning to find her daughter sitting at the end of her bed with an anxious expression. "Mom!" Eliza exclaimed, smiling. "Happy birthday!" She crawled over to give her mom a hug.

"Good morning, honey," Theo smiled at her daughter.

Aaron, who had stayed with his daughter and granddaughter the night before, came into the room at that moment, holding coffee for Theodosia and hot chocolate for Eliza. They both thanked him, and he hugged his daughter, "Happy birthday," he smiled. He rushed out of the room and came back in an instant, holding a card and a small present. Theo read the card, laughed, and went for the present. "I never know what to get you these days," Aaron said as she tore off the wrapping paper. The present was a thin, rectangular, velvet box, which when it was opened contained a silver chain necklace with a pearl pendant. Theodosia gasped when she saw it. "It's beautiful!" she exclaimed, dropping the box and throwing her arms around her father, who laughed and said, turning to Eliza, "You would think she was your age." Eliza just smiled. When Theo had put the necklace on, Eliza handed her her (badly wrapped) present. Theodosia's face lit up with curiosity when she saw the sketchbook, and it formed an expression when she opened it that seemed to be sad, happy, and proud all at the same time. She spent several agonising (agonising for Eliza, at least) minutes looking through the sketchbook, but when she finally closed the back cover she turned to her daughter with tears in her eyes and hugged her tight. "Thank you," she whispered in her daughter's ear. "Thank you so much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to make it better? Let me know what you guys think - Anna


	10. Will They Tell Our Story?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which conclusions are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD GUYS WE'RE NOT DEAD

And so they lived.

Alex’s career had been, eventually, ridiculously successful. His first ever job as a lawyer was defending George Washington against his ex Public Relations manager, some asshole called Charles Lee, whom he’d allegedly (according to Lee) had an affair with, and once he’d fired Lee for the false accusations, decided it was a good idea to sue Washington for god knows what. It was all a big mess, but Alex had managed to win the case, and to top it off he’d completely torn down Lee’s accusations of an affair, and managed to get him written off by the jury, and the press, as a scheming liar. He was nothing if not thorough. Washington didn’t become president at first (he’d lost to an idiot of a politician called George King). He ran again eight years later, and won. Alex, for some reason, was appointed as Washington’s Secretary of Treasury, which he was surprisingly good at, despite the fact he’d barely turned thirty. Six years later, he resigned so he could spend more time with his family, and settled back into being a lawyer, which he continued being ruthlessly good at. John, on the other hand, got a job working for a small scale magazine that operated largely online, and focused on covering social justice issues. It was ran by some French guys who John could never quite remember the name of, but had some very strong opinions, and he instantly bonded with the leader over their shared love for destroying capitalism. One day, completely on a whim, John showed someone high up (he couldn’t remember who) a political cartoon he’d drawn, and had thus been commissioned to do art for the company.

And so they lived.

After they’d decided to have a child, and for Eliza Schuyler to be the surrogate, they moved to a bigger, more suburban house, instead of the apartment that they’d been sharing. The new house had two storeys, three bedrooms (one of which John had converted into a studio), two bathrooms, an open plan living/dining room, and a nice kitchen. When Philip arrived, it was perfect. There were bad days of course. Temper tantrums. Illnesses. Other inevitable problems that a baby brought to any household. But, despite that, it was everything either of them could have wished for and more. A few years later, when they decided to have another child, and Frances burst into their lives like a small, chubby, noisy grenade, their little family was complete. School for Philip was a bit of a handful to say the least. He was not the best at making friends, and instead he spent most of the time not in lessons drawing or reading by himself. As a result, he was picked on a lot by his classmates. (Anna begins now) One guy in particular, George Eacker, was especially nasty to Philip. The final straw was when George threatened to beat Philip up, and Philip in a state of anger had challenged George to fight him after school. Philip had ended up getting hurt, and following a heated argument between Alex and the headmaster, the two boys were separated. Philip's school life became fairly normal after that. He made friends with Georges Lafayette, a boy he vaguely knew already as their parents knew each other. After the whole ordeal with Frances and the headmaster, switching schools and being away from her brother was hard on her. However she managed fairly well, having come home the first day asking for books on sign language, wanting to make friends with the pretty deaf girl in her class. The pretty deaf girl she had married several years later.

And so they lived.

The days Philip and Frances had their respective weddings were two of the best days of John and Alex's lives. The two teared up several times at both occasions, overcome with emotion at how happy their children looked. But many laughs were exchanged on those days too, mainly quiet ones between Alex and John as they slow-danced in the corner of the room, talking quietly. They talked about perfectly ordinary things, as if it was a perfectly ordinary day, neither of them quite being able to find the correct words to express the happiness and pride that overtook them. Being parents, they'd learned, was something indescribable. Being grandparents was even stranger. They would joke that being grandparents made them old, but neither of them really felt old at all. Being with their granddaughter, getting to watch her grow and become more like her parents and grandparents was an experience to say the least. When little Eliza started showing an interest in art John couldn't have been happier.

And so they lived.

Well. Tried to, at least. Philip's death had taken its toll on everyone, each in a different way. Alex and John had never even thought that they might outlive their children. Their Philip, gone. He had always been so careful. Always so protective, so good. He'd devoted his entire life to taking care of people, only to get himself killed doing just that. He was so young, so good, he didn't deserve it, any of it, he-

And so they lived.

They retired. Spent more time with their daughter and daughters in law. Took their granddaughter on more days out. Put their lives back together and tried to be happy. They hardly ever talked about Philip. They didn't really need to. A mutual understanding existed between them - they didn't need to say what they felt because they both knew the other was feeling the exact same thing. They would talk about other things. What Theodosia was writing at the moment. How Eliza was doing in school. Frances and Maria's decision to adopt, a baby boy who they named after Philip. Sometimes they would look back on their life back in the apartment, fresh out of uni, each trying to make a living and each madly in love with the other. John kept all of his old sketchbooks. He kept them all in a small under-the-bed box until the end of his life.

And so they died.

Side by side, like they should have. They simply went to sleep and never woke up. Everyone was devastated to lose them, obviously, but they had both lived good, long lives and had accomplished everything they wanted to. Frances spoke at the funeral, making everyone cry more than they had already. She told stories about her dads, laughing a couple of times at the memories, managing to make through her speech without crying. She promptly burst into tears at the end, but that was only to be expected. It was Eliza who eventually found her grandad's sketchbooks. The family was going through the house, picking out various bits and pieces with sentimental value. Eliza had gone into the bedroom and lay down for a bit. By this time she was a young woman of 25, and was having trouble taking it in. She'd been so close with her grandparents ever since her father's death, and the prospect of them being gone was still slightly unreal for her. She'd heard the story of how they'd fallen in love a few times and found it bizarre that she was older now than they had been at the time of their very first date. Only a little bit, but still. It was strange. She'd rolled over after burying her face in the pillow for a good few minutes, and had subsequently fell off the bed. After crying out in pain, she opened her eyes and saw the box under the bed. Her aunt came upstairs to find her looking through the sketchbooks. They all had dates on them. This one in particular was from Philip and Frances' childhood; it depicted a maybe three-year-old Frances in a winter coat, attempting to make a snowball with her chubby little hands. Maria smiled at the sight of her wife as a young child. I trust she was that cute as a child, she signed. Eliza gave a weak smile in response. Maria left her niece to her own devices. Eliza kept every single sketchbook. They sat on her bookshelf in date order. She showed them to her children, and then to their children. They were passed down through the family, each generation knowing Alex and John's story. How they met and fell in love, John's incredible artistic talent and Alex's strong political impact, the death of their son and how they got through the grief. The sketchbooks weren't something that could ever be published or anything like that, but the future generations were happy to keep them, a relic of the family. Some even added to the collection. Frankly it was ridiculous to think that this had started with twenty-two-year-old, fresh-out-of-college John Laurens who couldn't keep from drawing one Alexander Hamilton.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have finally brought this fic to an end. We hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as we enjoyed writing it.
> 
> So the reason for this being (very) late is because we've both been very busy what with holidays and going back to school, all on top of writer's block.  
> So we wrote 1490 words together  
> Grace wrote 466  
> ANNA WROTE  
> THE OTHER 1024  
> \- xoxo, gossip girl (Anna)


	11. The Narrative

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How this came to be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you will have noticed from the notes at the end, this fic started as a series of texts between the two of us. And here they are.

**Grace, 10:33pm:** okay so lams headcanon where John is really good at drawing and when he and Alex are roommates and John is Pining™ he draws Alex 10000x and has this sketchbook full of sketches of Alex and he hides it under his mattress and so one day Alex is looking for something and sees something under John's mattress and so he gets curious and has a look and finds this sketchbook full of him. like just drawings of him, sometimes with clothes, sometimes not, of his face, his hair, his body, him smiling, him frowning, him laughing, him working, him stretching with back muscles rippling, incredibly detailed pictures of his jawline, his eyes, his neck, his shirt riding up, and he just sits there for nearly an hour realising that this is how John sees him, that he sees him how he thought no one would ever see him, and he starts crying softly, and so that's how John finds him, hunched over his sketchbook, tears pouring down his face, and Alex turns and throws his arms around John and they stay like that, fitting together perfectly, until nothing really matters apart from each other. later, John draws it. it is the first time he has drawn something other than Alex has appeared in his sketchbook

 **Grace, 10:33pm:** fuck that was ling

 **Grace, 10:33pm:** long*** ffs

 **Anna, 10:34pm:** I was gonna say are you dead but oHMYGOD YES

 **Anna, 10:39pm:** and so he starts drawing little scenarios of them, them in a coffee shop, walking on a beach, etc and little does he know that Alex still goes through the sketchbook on occasion because he loves it and about 2 years later he's going through it and he finds lots of different designs for rings and he doesn't realise what they're for so he's confused like "I thought this was dedicated to me and John why is he designing rings" and so a week later John proposes and Alex spends ages looking at the ring before realising it's the same one John drew over and over again in the sketchbook and just smiles because his wonderful now-fiancé spent ages designing a special engagement ring for him and asdfgkl

 **Grace, 10:39pm:** asdfghjkl

 **Anna, 10:40pm:** yes

 **Anna, 10:40pm:** and the next time Alex looks in the sketchbook the first thing he sees is himself with the ring on his left hand

 **Grace, 10:49pm:** John draws the wedding. draws them at the altar, hand in hand, flowers in their hair. draws the Schuylers in matching bridesmaid's dresses, laughing and smiling. draws him and Alex and Lafayette and Hercules clinking glasses of champagne together. draws him and Alex dancing. draws their first kiss as a married couple. draws him spinning Alex around. draws Martha Washington smiling with tears in her eyes. draws George Washington with tears in his.

 **Anna, 10:55pm:** draws them on their wedding night, them kissing, them together in bed (but it's tAsTeFuL) and Alex looks so beautiful and when John shows him the sketches of their wedding he tries to hide the sexual ones but Alex is having none of it and he looks at them and teases John about it but in reality he's so touched because of the way his husband sees him and he knows how lucky of a man he is

 **Grace, 11:18pm:** when they adopt their first child, a baby by the name of Philip Laurens-Hamilton, John draws him. draws him in Alex's arms, at 3am when Alex is tired but happy. draws him all together, Philip enthusiastically tugging on Alex's hair. draws him growing up, his hair growing longer ("so it looks just like Papa's!"). when Philip is three, they decide to adopt again. this time, a girl; Frances Laurens-Hamilton. John draws her as well. other children get photo albums, Philip and Frances get sketchbooks. there are drawings of Philip with his best friend, Theodosia Burr, playing everything from princesses to doctors. drawings of Frances with flowers in her hair and paint on her clothes. drawings of Philip and Frances hugging Alex. as they get older, other drawings appear in John's sketchbooks - ones not done by him. for the first time, he starts appearing. he eventually catches Philip in his and Alex's room, drawing a picture of him eating breakfast. he quietly sits down next to Philip, now 14, and shows him the best way to capture the way light hits someone's face

 **Anna, 11:20pm:** *screams*

 **Grace, 11:20pm:** thank (i think?)

 **Anna, 11:20pm** **:** yes it's good very very good

 **Grace, 11:21pm:** thank

 **Anna, 11:21pm:** lol here comes my inclusions of other ships here we go

 **Grace, 11:21pm:** nice

 **Anna, 11:29pm:** and later John discovers Philip's own private sketchbook and can't help but look through it and it's full of drawings of Theodosia Burr Jr, them laughing together, her laughing while looking at a book bUt Philip doesn't realise that he has romantic feelings for her he just likes to draw her and he's not sure why and the next time John catches him drawing john's like "so how long have you been crushing on her" and Philip is like "cRuSh????wHaT???" and John just smiles and takes out the sketchbook from so many years ago now, the one full of drawings of Alex and he's like "I couldn't stop drawing him either" so Philip starts accidentally-on-purpose leaving his sketchbook around hoping that Theo will see it and one time he accidentally leaves it at her house and before returning it to him she can't resist looking through and so she sees all the drawings of herself and she just smiles and writes a note asking Philip on a date then when she returns it to him she doesn't say anything so he assumes she didn't look at it but then he opens it again when he's like having dinner with his family or some shit and sees the note and and starts choking on his food in surprise

 **Grace, 11:30pm:** yEs

 **Anna, 11:31:** I'M SUCH TRASH FOR PHILIP HAM AND THEO BURR LIKE HONESTLY

 **Grace, 11:31pm:** same tbh

 **Grace, 11:32pm:** prepare urself

 **Anna, 11:32pm:** my body is ready

 **Grace, 11:53pm:** John draws Philip and Theo going to prom, and later Frances and her girlfriend Maria Jefferson (which is met by initial contempt from her fathers) when they go. john draws their weddings, and their subsequent children. his last drawing of Philip is one of him with Theo and their daughter, smiling together. later that night, they get the news that will change everything. there has been a shooting. a bus was hijacked. Philip saved fifteen people. John can't draw him after that. so he doesn't draw how peaceful Philip looks in his casket when he draws the funeral. he doesn't draw him because his hands shake too much when he thinks of his son. he does, however, draw their new house uptown. he does, however, draw his grandchild. he shows her what he showed Philip all those years ago. she draws her father sometimes.

 **Grace, 11:53pm:** I'M SORRY

 **Grace, 11:53pm:** I'M SORRY

 **Grace, 11:53pm:** PLEASE DON'T KILL ME

 **Anna, 11:54pm:** YOU ARE

 **Anna, 11:54pm:** THE WORST

 **Grace, 11:54pm:** blame the les miserables soundtrack

 **Grace, 11:54pm:** I FEEL SO BAD

 **Anna, 11:55pm:** DON'T YOU DARE GET ME OBSESSED WITH ANOTHER MUSICAL

 **Grace, 11:55pm:** sorry

 **Anna, 11:55pm:** nah ur good

 **Anna, 11:55pm:** the worst™

 **Anna, 11:55pm:** but good

 **Grace, 11:55pm:** you have to make this happy now pls

 **Grace, 11:56pm:** I don't think i can do it

 **Anna, 00:02am:** OKAY so their daughter who is called Eliza (because Eliza Schuyler was a mother figure to Philip his entire life) finds her grandfather's old sketchbooks with drawings of his children, her father, progressing through their childhoods and then the ones of Philip and Frances as adults and she wants something to hold onto too so she copies photos from a while ago, her parents on the day of her birth, her father feeding her cake on her 2nd birthday, her mother dressing her for her first day of school, etc so she draws all of them and presents the sketchbook to her mother on her birthday, Theo promptly starts crying and Eliza's scared that she's upset her mum but Theo just hugs her and whispers "thank you"

 **Grace, 00:20am:** John becomes a world famous human rights activist. Alex is the youngest person to ever become secretary of treasury. their grandchildren know them as Grandpa and Granddad respectively. John carries on drawing until he can no longer hold a pencil. they die side by side, mere hours apart, of old age. Eliza has the job of going through their house. in it, she finds hundreds of sketchbooks, each detailing their life together. the one she copied for her mother pales in comparison. so she moves in. now an adult, she takes a break from work and goes through each and every one of the sketchbooks, following the story of her Grandfathers' lives, from the eyes of John Laurens. she makes them into books. beautiful, stylised graphic novels, made up of all the drawings in the sketchbook, telling their story. they never make it to the shops. only a handful are produced; she gives them all to her family, all those related to John and Alex. they are not published until nearly one hundred years later, and instantly become a bestseller. I have run out of creativity

 **Anna, 00:21pm:** I feel like that's a good ending

 **Grace, 00:21pm:** I hope so

-

So this is how this fic all started. Important things to note are:

  1. Grace's extensive use of commas
  2. the fact that Grace writes so eloquently and I swear and use abbreviations and do rAnDoM cApItAl LeTtErS
  3. me pre-les mis obsession
  4. the fact that this only got sad because Grace was listening to les mis and got emo
  5. the fact that we write extremely detailed fanfictions at midnight



Hope you enjoyed this! - Anna

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! We hope you enjoy this fanfic. The idea behind just started as trading headcanons via text, and look what was born. There will be updates every Sunday (English time), and me (Grace) and Anna will be writing alternate chapters. Come and talk to us on tumblr as @thirteen-flowers (Grace/Cadmium55) and @howdoiusername (Anna/Castomydean). Ratings may alter and will be posted at the beginning of each chapter if need be. Thanks for reading!


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